


Just Us

by skyerocketeer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, mafia, or the au where Iwa-chan is a badass mafia leader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8556976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyerocketeer/pseuds/skyerocketeer
Summary: Iwaizumi is notorious throughout Tokyo's underground mafia chain, however he manages to keep his identity hidden well, especially from you. It's a secret that he'll take to his grave.At least he hopes so.





	1. The Mobster's Lover

**Author's Note:**

> i decided to move this work from my drabble collection cause i wanted to make this into a full blown story, plot and all!

Eyes narrowed menacingly at the man in front of him: blindfolded, tied to a chair with a thick rope wrapped harshly against his skin, and a smug grin gracing his mouth despite the bitter taste of iron. A cigar is placed between Iwaizumi's lips, the smoke drawing out and leaving a smog cloud in it's wake. His tie was thrown somewhere across the room during part of the interrogation, all that's left on his torso is a half buttoned dress shirt. With sleeves rolled up to expose a wide variety of tattoos, anyone would think that the boss was a force to be reckon with.

Nobody wanted to fuck with him. Nobody questioned him. Iwaizumi's word meant final. Enough trust was put into him to make him the head of the organization, and he did a damn good job at running it. Very few deaths so far, aside from the ones he had no control over, along with more money income in the past few years to make the family secure made him the best, and well-known, in Japan. Iwaizumi regularly turned to violence, and used it to drain his enemies and torture them until they couldn't bear it. He converted them into these weak, cowardly people who begged for his mercy, something he rarely gave.

"I am five minutes away from saying fuck it and setting your ass on fire," Iwaizumi snarls, snatching the cigar from his mouth and tapping the ashes into the tray before stalking towards his prisoner. The man doesn't react much, nothing but clenched fists against the arms of the chair, his wrists straining against the rope. Iwaizumi digs the foot of the cigar into the man's revealed skin of his arm, earning a low hiss. That's not enough of a response for the mobster.

His first lieutenant, Oikawa, is sitting nearby, watching the scene before him with lidded eyes, while two of his kyodais wait for an order. Usually, they are the ones who perform the interrogations, as it's their specialty and they enjoy doing so. If their methods didn't work, which most of the time they did, then the last resort would be the head of the family.

The man's hiss turns into scratchy laughter, the blood from the previous beatings bubbling in his throat.

"You having fun?" Grabbing matted hair, yanking his head backwards with a harsh crack, Iwaizumi seizes his jaw, his thumb and index finger pressing so fiercely into the man's flesh that he can feel his molars.

"This is the last goddamn time I'm gonna ask you. Tell me who you fucking work for. Who sent you? You either tell me or your ass is dead. Gone. Without a fucking trace, you hear me? Are you having fun now?"

The echo of Iwaizumi's screams are the only sound left in the room besides the sputtering from the man's lips, blood and spit dribbling down his chin as Iwaizumi chokes him, holding his neck in his fist. A noise makes it to the oyabun's ears, similar to a plea or whine. He releases his hand, reaching behind him for the revolver sitting next to a framed picture of you on his mahogany desk.

The muzzle presses against the victim's forehead as he tries to recover his breath, chest heaving, and the click of the hammer is heard in contrast to the ghostly silence.

"You got a minute or I'm putting a bullet to your brain."

"I'd rather take the fucking bullet before I tell you any-"

Not a moment is spared before a loud explosion sounds, the ringing in Iwaizumi's ears muting out the footsteps of his kyodai removing the now limp body of the man from the rope. Flicking his wrist up to check the time on his watch, he casts his hard gaze at Oikawa. The wakagashira nods with understanding, grabbing his briefcase and sauntering his way out of the room after the kyodai.

It's a long cab drive until Iwaizumi arrives at your apartment. He'd cleaned up pretty well. A black suit covers his dedicated tattoos of the mafia, and his most favorite: a portrait of you on his right bicep. Most of the blood had washed off as well, like nothing happened. Knocking once, and the door is swinging unlocked, revealing you with a shit-eating grin and open arms. Shutting the door hurriedly behind him, he kisses you, his lips moving fervently against your own like you're an oasis and he's been scavenging in the desert. Gentle hands find refuge in his dark hair, your fingers curling into his scalp and clutching the strands. It's hard to pull apart, but you somehow manage, mumbling, "Where have you been, my love?"

Iwaizumi purrs out a response, and the vibrations can be felt on your jaw as he outlines the bone with soft pecks.

"I've been busy with work. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, sweetheart."

He means it. He's sorry that he couldn't spend time with you, and that work keeps him from having a decent relationship. Of course, you don't know. You couldn't ever, ever know what he did behind that door. You will never know what he does, nor does he want you to. You were innocent, so pure, like an angel, to the world of violence.

Every now and then when Iwaizumi would come to you with scratches and bruises on his hands, you would ask what had caused them with such worry in those beautiful eyes he adored. He would lie that it was just a mere bar fight, and you would scold him, explaining that he shouldn't do such things. It's those times that he considers spilling all his secrets and confessing his crimes, but he always remembers the oath he swore. If you had somehow found out about his endeavors, he was positive you would leave him, anyway. In fact, it was a sure thing. He couldn't be with you if you knew. Even if there was a slim chance you wouldn't be afraid, and you wanted to stay, Iwaizumi would push you away. His eyes dulled and watered at the thought of him doing that, brushing off the person he loves so dearly like they were nothing to begin with.

"I'll forgive you." A giggle, soft like the evening sunlight, spills from your lips. It's a sound Iwaizumi could get used to hearing every morning like an alarm. "But only if you do me this one favor."

Arching an eyebrow as you break free from his embrace, his head is cocked to one side in curiosity. "Oh? What favor?"

You motioned him to follow, hooking your index finger in a beckoning gesture, as you walked the path to the bedroom. "It's very urgent."

Iwaizumi loosens his tie after taking off his suit jacket, the fabric hanging around his neck like he just got home from a long day at the office. If only that really is the case. He follows you, strolling with a spring in his step and smirk on his usual pouty lips, knowing very well of the so-called favor you requested of him. Iwaizumi is so in love, so utterly, helplessly and deeply in love. That very thought itself should be enough for him to be with you, no matter the consequences. He's aware of the fact that the family came first, and it always will. He knows his responsibilities, he knows his place in society. Iwaizumi is unknown, to never be found, and to be discarded after his job is done.

Yet he wants to be with you. All of the ordinary stuff that the regular people do, those with day jobs and bills to pay, those who can go out in public and enjoy the simple things, he wanted it, even if he wasn't that normal person. Marriage, kids, he craved those things with you, no matter how useless they had seemed to him before. The future just appeared so exciting with you in it, even if the span would be short lived.

Iwaizumi wants you.

Desperately, he wants you and he hopes you want him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edit* i decided to include japanese rankings instead of the italian ones. so here is a list of what they all mean:  
> oyabun = family boss (iwachan), wakagashira = first lieutenant (oikawa), kyodai = big brothers (seijoh volleyball team minus the first years and kyotani), shatei = little brothers (kyotani, kindaichi, kunimi), and for future reference shingiin = law advisor, saiko-komen = administration, and kaikei = accountants.


	2. The Tale of Two Lovers

Iwaizumi wakes up to the smell of laundry detergent and shampoo, and he can tell without a doubt that it's your hair and bedsheets. A habit he has formed over many nights of sleeping with you was to dig his face into your hair as he draped a muscular arm over your torso, unconsciously drawing you closer. It's a comforting scent, and most importantly, it reminds him of you.

His eyes open hazily, blinking a few times to adjust his sight. He takes his time to study your features: your nose, your lips, your eyelashes fluttering as you dream, face completely calm and free of stress. It wasn't often for him to see you such a relaxed state, and he wanted nothing more than to pull out his phone and take a picture of this moment, but he knows that's dangerous. It was risky enough for him to have a picture of you sitting on his desk in plain view. A smile teases his mouth, only to falter in discernment that he's made a mistake sleeping at your apartment, again. He should have left during the night, but your pleas and frowning lips made him think otherwise. Oh, and the way you sighed and moaned his name changed his mind, too.

He gets out of bed, quietly as to not disturb you, and dresses himself back into the clothes he wore last night. Maybe he should leave some of his clothes here when this situation happens again. He ambles into the kitchen to make coffee for you and him. Having done it multiple times before, he knows just how you like it.

It was raining out, so that answered his question as to why it was so dark at ten in the morning. Despite his responsibilities, like another interrogation and sending out a soldier on a delivery, Iwaizumi tries to push those thoughts to the back of his mind and focusing on spending more time with you. He most likely wouldn't see you for another few days or so.

You stumble out into the living room, the apparent bedhead making Iwaizumi chuckle in amusement as he strides to meet you. Planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, he mumbles a good morning.

"Good morning," you sing softly, stifling a yawn and enveloping Iwaizumi into your arms.

"Sleep well?"

A nod is your response, your cheek rubbing against his chest. He didn't know how to tell you he had to leave, but yet it would have been better to leave at night. No, he had to leave now. The guys would be left waiting, he had orders to give.

You pull away, eyebrows furrowed and lips tugged into a frown.

"Dressed already? Are you leaving?"

Iwaizumi's conflicted, his mind says he needs to leave immediately and do what he has to. His heart, however, says he should stay at least another hour.

"I wanted to say goodbye before I go," he clarifies. It hurts him to see you so upset, even though it's how you always look like when he retreats back to his secret life. Yet every time it feels the same, and eventually you would get tired of it, finding it hard to stay with him when the relationship becomes too erratic. Three years have passed, however, and that time never arrived, and you always welcomed him into your home and showered him with affection he received nowhere else. Iwaizumi often speculated what he did in his past life to earn a blessing in his life such as yourself.

"You never stay."

Your words sting him, and he tightens his jaw. The pained expression you're wearing is enough to drive him to shame.

He really didn't want to start an argument, not about this, but he deserved it. It was routine, after all, for him to either leave in the middle of the night or the morning after. He always wondered why you were loyal to him when he had nothing to offer, nothing but empty promises, when he could barely make time for you. Mouth open to continue, Iwaizumi beats you to it.

Kissing you lovingly, he holds your face in his hands, the warmth encouraging you to lean into his touch. He knows it's too much to ask for, to make you understand that he has to go and that's all there is to it. There's no other way to put it, besides that it's important but he'll be back a couple days later. Sometimes days turn into a week, and it's worrying, to both you and him, wondering how each other is doing, or where they are, and if they miss you.

On his phone, there are messages between you and him from years ago that he never bothered to delete, each of them holding memories that not even the cheesiest movies could recreate. Back at the mafia's base, it has become a mundane task that he scrolls through them fondly. When Iwaizumi's lips detach from yours, it almost feels desolate.

"I love you," he mumbles. "I always come back to you, no matter where I am. Please just trust me."

You sigh, an apprehensive gaze directed up at him.

"I do trust you, my love. I just worry if you're okay."

Iwaizumi smiles. "You have my number, right? Just call me. I'll answer no matter where I am or what I'm doing."

You beam up at him, eyes shining with happiness. "I'll keep that in mind, Hajime-kun."

The embrace he holds you in is prolonged, neither of you finding the strength to withdraw, and the silence is weighted. When Iwaizumi sighs heavily, you are aware that he's leaving. With the words he had spoken earlier in your mind, he hopes that you'll not feel abandoned anymore.

"I'll see you."

Iwaizumi shuts the door behind him, a slight frown on his lips as he hails a cab. Muttering the usual address of a restaurant that's a few blocks from the base, he is quiet on the ride there, antsy about his arrival. Honestly, he just wants the day to be over with; another day gone, another day closer to being with you.

When the heavy wooden door opens, he is met with darkness, and then Oikawa. The mousy-brown haired man is wearing a teasing smile, something that Iwaizumi purposely turns his head to, as the pair head up the staircase to Iwaizumi's office.

"Spent the night again, I see. Did you have a good time?"

"Shut up, Oikawa."

A mischievous chuckle bursts from the wakagashira's mouth before his face becomes stern and cold.

Another man with dark, almost shaved hair and a goatee is before him, tied in a similar position of the man yesterday. Iwaizumi stares at him with unsympathetic eyes as the man peers up at him impassively.

"Are you the dumbass that's been embezzling money from us?" It's more of a statement, a real nonchalant statement, but it makes the hostage smirk with mock pride.

"That's me."

Iwaizumi glares at him, his hand already so eager to reach for the revolver. The handgun was his primary source of killings, as he rarely reached for any of the torture devices in the room. It caused less mess, anyway, but prisoners like this made him contemplate using a hacksaw that had never seen blood. Of course, Iwaizumi would never commit to doing such a thing. His capos were at his feet practically begging to have at least some action. Perhaps today would be that day.

"It's tiring dealing with smartasses, you know," Iwaizumi complains to Matsukawa, the kyodai nodding in agreement.

"Always spewing useless bullshit out of their asses."

The hostage rolls his eyes, his vision wandering around the room and settling on the pretty picture of your face.

"Oooh," he coos, eyes crinkling as a grin forms on his face. "Is that your wife? How pretty."

Turning the frame away from his view harshly, Iwaizumi clenches his jaw and fist, although the sound of someone calling you his wife doesn't sound so bad.

"She's not for you to look at, bastard."

"What a shame. Does she know that you're on the most wanted list?"

"That doesn't concern you. You're about to be dead, anyway, so it's no use telling you."

The smile never leaves the man's lips, and it's taunting and eerie, but Iwaizumi is the one with the gun. Unfortunately, there's some information the oyabun could use from the hostage.

"Get that fucking smile off your face and let's talk business. I already know who you're with, but I didn't know they hired such stupid affiliates."

"They do, actually, and they pay me pretty well."

"If that's the case, then why don’t you use your own fucking money instead of stealing ours? My men have been watching you for a while. I'm fully aware of the Ferrari you recently purchased, along with your Maybach and Mercedes."

Motioning to Kyoutani, a new hostile little brother that was recruited a month ago, Iwaizumi relaxes in his chair, hands behind his head, composed and calm. 

"Show him why I made you a part of this family."

The blonde moves quickly, grabbing onto the hostage's skull as Iwaizumi watches with curiosity. He hasn't seen the newbie in action yet, so it could possibly be entertaining.

"Go for the eyes," the mafia leader orders, boring into the captive's eyes with his dark, cold ones. "Since he has the fucking nerve to look at my girl."

A flash of anxiety runs through the man's features, his mouth opening to protest.

"Alright, fine." The words are so rushed that Iwaizumi doesn't catch the surrender. Nonetheless, Iwaizumi notions for Kyoutani to halt his movements. "We were low on funds."

"Oh really? Is that why you were running to a car dealership to buy the most expensive fucking cars?"

"The mafia was low on funds, you fucking bastard, not me. I bought that shit with my own fucking-"

"You're quite daring today, aren't you? You're brave enough to use that kind of attitude with me? Know your place," Iwaizumi lashes out, and reaches into a drawer and pulls out a switchblade, and makes sure to fold it before tossing it to Kyoutani. "You know that shit's useless."

The boss locks eyes with the shatei, nodding encouragingly.

"Do what you want with it."

Sounds of agony reflect off the midnight blue walls as Kyoutani slices off each of the man's fingers on his right hand, cutting through the bone and muscle. What the knife doesn't take off, the shatei rips. Iwaizumi briefly notices a buzzing in his trouser pocket, and quickly realizes that it's his phone. Sparing a glance towards the wailing hostage, his expression is ruthless.

"Someone shut him the fuck up."

The shatei hurriedly wraps a loose fabric across the captive's mouth, muffling the screams. Detached pupils fixate on the caller ID, and everyone in the room can catch the lightening of his irises.

"Hi, baby," Iwaizumi hums into the phone, a small grin possessing his lips.

"Hello, my love. Is this a bad time?"

Assessing the situation in front of him, he promptly shakes his head even though you can't see. The headache that was beginning to stir in his temples had faltered in it's tracks at the sound of your angelic voice.

"No, it's a perfect time. Just give me one second, sweetheart."

Pressing the mute button on the dimly lit screen, he sends a hardened look at Oikawa, a drastic contrast to the previous countenances that took over his tan face. The assistant bows his head with comprehension.

"Finish it up here."

Sauntering towards the door with his phone in hand, he can vaguely hear the muffled yelling through the fabric, until it becomes clear and increases in volume. Iwaizumi stares in vast horror at the words that spill from the man's mouth. He's never heard them directed at you before, and they take away the tiny sliver of happiness he had gained from speaking with you, his mouth agape in dismay.

"I'll fucking kill her! I'll find a goddamn way! She's gonna be dead within a week, just fucking watch!"

While the fact that it could just be a bluff, Iwaizumi can't help the uneasy feeling that creeps it's way into his stomach as he carries his conversation with you outside the room with panic hiding in his voice.


	3. Oikawa's Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Iwaizumi wonders who really is the boss in the mafia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is kind of short..but i DID include some visuals of iwa-chan jerkin it...so...there's my excuse.

During the dark hours of the night, when Iwaizumi is staying at a cheap hotel, laying on a creaky mattress, he has dreams. Some of them are melancholic, with blurred images of violence and criminals searching after him. He wouldn't call them nightmares, but when you were suddenly in his dream, and you were tied up similar to how he does his interrogations, that's when it turned into one. Usually he would jolt up, with cold sweat beaded along his forehead and try to make himself forget.

Other times, on the occasion when he hadn't seen you for more than a few days, his dreams consisted of you in front of him, beautifully unaware of the fact that he was gazing at you, unashamed and admiringly. In majority of those dreams, you were nude, with some form of clothing article draping over you yet it was sheer, barely covering anything. Iwaizumi likes to think of himself as a man who can control his urges, but it's those dreams that send his hand travelling south. Visions of you next to him on his bed, caressing him, peppering those soft and taunting kisses on his chest, and the way you whimper and sigh his name so erotically, "Hajime! Hajime! Oh, fuck, don't stop Hajime!"

Unconsciously, his hand extends past waistband of his boxers, palming his hardness through his gray sweatpants. Releasing a tense exhale, now fully awake, he attempts to imagine you next to him, motivating him to touch himself, ordering him.

Relief surges through him as he pulls down his pants and underwear, his erected cock yearning for attention. The head is red and precum makes the tip glisten, and Iwaizumi rubs the slit with his thumb as a small moan breaks through his lips. You give him head so well; he could come in less than a few minutes if you set your mind to it, a task he thought only himself could perform. If you dragged it out, teasing him with your tongue and turning him into a vulnerable mess beneath you, he could last around fifteen minutes before he gets impatient.

Your pretty, warm and wet mouth wrapped around his cock, those delicate fingers massaging his-aw, _fuck_.

Iwaizumi is panting, his breaths coming short and ragged as he pictures the scene in his mind, creating his own private fantasy.

It takes him two minutes before he orgasms, the sensation spreading like an inferno. A delicious, delightful inferno.

A few moments later, he is ejaculating onto his stomach, emitting a long groan of release, and he's thankful he didn't wear a shirt to bed. Taking a tissue from a nearby box on the floor, he cleans his torso and thoughtfully concurs with himself that it was a great way to start a shit day. He dresses himself in the similar clothes that are in the closet, and selects a simple white and blue pinstripe dress shirt and blue slacks. Iwaizumi doesn't really know why he only owns business attire, but Oikawa suggested it would make him look more professional if he took his appearance seriously.

Acting like he wasn't just jacking off, he walks out of the room and locks the door, his underboss already waiting outside, a briefcase in his hand, dressed in a tan suit with a vibrant red tie. The hallway was empty, and the two exchanged greetings in a low voice.

"I'm surprised you didn't go see her immediately."

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at the brunette, "I know a bluff when I hear it."

Oikawa is silent, and it makes the leader question whether or not he should pursue further.

"What happened when I went out?"

"Well, we found a bug on him. However, we destroyed of it properly, so it should no longer be a threat to us."

"And you've decided to tell me now?"

"You were gone, Iwaizumi. I did what I had to do for the time being."

Oikawa's voice was harsh, and if it were anyone else Iwaizumi would have broken his arm. The fair man stopped his footsteps, turning towards his superior and glaring.

"You should be thanking me for constantly covering for you. Being in this group is a responsibility, you knew that coming in."

"You're doing your damn job, Oikawa," Iwaizumi snarls, grabbing hold of the man's collar, shoving him against the nearest wall. "I'm not in the mood to hear you bitch about how I'm not there all the time."

He releases his grip, letting the wakagashira stumble to catch his balance while Iwaizumi continues towards the elevator.

"Did you actually believe that you can keep her a secret?" The brunette scoffs, hustling to match his senior's pace, smoothing his suit jacket in the process.

"As far as I'm concerned, you and the others are the only people who know. Should that change, I'll take care of it."

A ding is overheard during the conversation, the pair stepping inside the open corridor and Oikawa uses his index finger to press down on the lobby button.

Iwaizumi had always acknowledged the nagging thought that someone was bound to find out and use you to spite him, but he figured that it would be the other way around, and you would discover who he really was. Now, due to his reckless behavior, he has put you in danger. That's something he could never forgive himself for.

"How long has it been since you've seen her?"

"Few days ago. I got off the phone with her last night."

That same mocking smirk is back on Oikawa's face, but right now, Iwaizumi is having none of it, but his assistant rambled on.

"I know you're going to see her tonight at the very latest, and you might not like this suggestion, but I hope you consider it."

A small, irritated roll of his oyabun's eyes let Oikawa know to continue. Any proposition from the brunette was something to take with precaution.

"Tell her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god it's hard describing genitalia.. rip. also, yes, a headcannon of mine is that iwa-chan gets easily turned on just by seein a titty.


	4. The Commencement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the beginning, Iwaizumi had a hard time grasping the idea that his home life would get any better. With a new family, however, he found that it would, once he left it behind.

A dark room is all Iwaizumi sees, his eyes focusing on the small, broken desk lamp in the corner of his room in an attempt to desensitize from his emotions. He should be asleep, he'd actually prefer it if he was, but he lies awake. The screams of anger from his arguing parents that reach his room from down the hall is overbearing the peaceful chirp of crickets from outside.

Iwaizumi is almost certain that it's nearing two in the morning. The old fashioned clock that ticks next to him is rather annoying when he's trying to sleep, but right now it's eerie when it's all he hears. Ghostly, timid silence.

His father had probably left, gone to a bar or perhaps a hotel, and his mother was most likely weeping. Iwaizumi is unsure about how to handle this situation, despite having seen it unravel in front of him multiple times. He doesn't know how to offer comfort to his own mom, and he feels inadequate. Why can't his mouth form the proper words?

A pinch of light escapes from the hallway, peeking into his room when she cracks open his door. Iwaizumi feigns sleep, and the brightness disappears a second later. Footsteps, and then the quiet lock of a door.

The teenage boy reaches for the covers, yanking them off of his body hurriedly. Already fully clothed in a hooded jacket and jeans, he steps into his old white shoes, scuffed with dirt from years of playing outside, before making his way towards the window.

Oikawa is outside, waiting patiently with his hands in his pockets by now, as he watches Iwaizumi climb out from the opening quite clumsily.

The walk to a neighboring town is rather short, neither of the two bothering to say anything for the first fifteen minutes there. Shivering, Iwaizumi shoves his hands into his pockets and glances at his friend. His fair face is stoic, obviously thinking over what's going to happen, something that the dark haired boy doesn't even know. All Oikawa explained was that it had to do with an initiation, or similar to one. He really didn't care, all he had to hear was that it would help his situation at home a lot better and he was on board. Pretty soon he would run out of options to turn to once high school was over, and he wasn't sure whether or not he was going to be able to go to college. No matter how many times his mother said things would get better, he didn't believe her. Iwaizumi is old enough to see the premature signs of a divorce, although he thinks it should have happened years ago.

"I think you should prepare yourself."

Eyebrows raised, Iwaizumi faces him with questioning eyes.

"The initiation tends to be pretty tough. Of course, I don't know for sure, because I've never been in one, but that's what I've heard."

"Where'd you meet these guys, anyway? Some creepy alley?" Iwaizumi ridicules.

"No, that'd be pretty cliché, wouldn't it?" His friend smiles halfheartedly. "One of my other friends introduced me to his cousin once. Guy looked pretty scary, but he said he could offer me and you a job, so I thought why the hell not?"

"Dude didn't mention it was sketch? On top of that, he doesn't even know me. How can he make a decision like that?"

"Nah, didn't come up. He said something that he'd been keeping an eye on us for around a month now. But, the reason I wanna do it is because of the money. Apparently it pays pretty well."

"It better. Otherwise, I'm kicking your ass."

After receiving a threatening glare from Iwaizumi, Oikawa is silent the rest of the walk. A tall, moss green building looms in front of them. It's at least a few stories high, and the windows are covered with bars and the door has a few rusted locks.

"This is the address he gave me."

Oikawa raises his fist up to the wooden door, knocking twice before a harsh sliding sound is made. Two beady, narrowed eyes look the pair up and down from a rectangular slot on the side of the building a foot away. Iwaizumi notices it in his peripherals, nudging Oikawa with his arm.

"Who you with?" A gruff voice mumbles. It hits a nerve in Iwaizumi's stomach, and induces a tiny trace of anxiety.

Luckily, his friend answers for him, his mouth too dry to form proper words.

"Adachi Fumio. We're here for-"

"I know."

The slot closes with a clank, and the multiple locks above the door handle click, the door swinging open almost hauntingly. Iwaizumi really has no idea what he's got himself into, but he's slowly getting an idea. It's either a cult, or a secret organization, neither of which Iwaizumi is familiar with. Knowing Oikawa since childhood, it was unlikely for him to get included in such things. He always seemed too prissy to get his hands dirty, especially in an illegal setting.

He follows after Oikawa, making sure to stay alert in case things got too weird or shady and he had to make a run for it, although he's not sure how far he'll make it. They are lead to an open room by the man with a shaved head and a moustache, who Iwaizumi assumes is the same as the one at the slot in the wall.

"Sit. Teiji is busy."

Not given much of a choice, they do as the man says, sitting stiffly onto the gray loveseat. Compared to the outside of the building, the inside is much nicer and modern-looking. It almost makes Iwaizumi feel underdressed.

Ten minutes pass. Then twenty, then forty, then an hour, yet the dark-haired boy has yet to move. He's in an unfamiliar environment, and the only person he can trust is Oikawa, which to Iwaizumi is not the best situation to be in.

"So, Fumio sent you here."

A deep, rumbling voice shakes Iwaizumi to his core. He stares at the man before him in apprehension, studying the hard features on his inked face and the tattoos along his arms, revealed by his tank top. This person is what Iwaizumi makes out to be Teiji.

"Yes, sir," Oikawa manages to squeak out.

"What's this, the fucking military? Don't use that formal shit with me, son. Gimme your names and ages."

"Oikawa Toru. Eighteen."

"Iwaizumi Hajime. Eighteen."

A smirk graces the man's lips in a blatant mocking way, but Iwaizumi knows he's in no position to get irked by it.

"Loosen up a bit, will ya? I'm not gonna kill ya," he laughs obnoxiously, clutching his stomach. Neither of the two teenage boys speak, however it's noticeable that even after the somewhat dangerous comment, Oikawa is sitting more relaxed than Iwaizumi.

"Then, let's go ahead with it. Kojiro! We're ready."

The room turns dim, the candles Iwaizumi didn't know were lit illuminating the room. Majority of the flames were in a circle on the counter of the living room table. Another man with a clean shaven face and tan skin saunters into the room, followed by around thirteen other men. In the man's hands, he carries a slightly visible gun, a revolver specifically, and a knife. It isn't a usual kitchen knife that Iwaizumi's mom uses in the kitchen, it's the kind that his dad uses to threaten her. A dagger. The weapons are both placed on the table.

Kojiro orders them with a stern but quiet voice. "Bow."

Teiji is no where to be seen in the crowd, and it prompts the uneasy feeling to appear in Iwaizumi's torso again. He realizes in that moment as he gets on his knees and lowers his head towards Kojiro and the weapons that there is no turning back, he cannot run, and he cannot hide.

"Raise your right hand."

Among the eyes peering in front of the dark-haired boy, none of them look threatening, or harmful or like criminals like what he imagined. They look interested, excited, friendly, similar to that one uncle that everyone loves at family gatherings.

"Be loyal to the members of the organization. Do not interfere with another's intentions. Do you agree?"

"Yes," the pair say in unison.

"Be rational. Be a member of the team. Do not engage in a battle if you cannot win. Do you agree?"

"Yes."

"Be a man of honor. Respect womanhood and elders. Do you agree?"

"Yes."

"Be a man of strength. Show courage and heart when faced with adversity. Do you agree?"

"Yes."

"Lastly, be a man of class. Have independence. Know your own path. Do you agree?"

"Yes."

Kojiro retrieves a needle from the countertop. To Iwaizumi, it seems as if the pin is supposed to be used for stitching, but he knows that sewing is not it's purpose. He approaches the tan teenager, gripping his right hand and extending his index finger towards him. Taking the point of the needle, he pricks the skin of the digit, drawing blood and lets it sit on the surface. Kojiro proceeds to do the same to Oikawa.

"The blood I have drawn from you represents your birth into our family. We are one until death."

The man motions towards the weapons that are perched side by side.

"The only way you will live is by the gun and the knife. The only way you will die is by the gun and the knife."

Iwaizumi nods, understanding the importance of the ceremony and what he was submitting himself to. It was interesting in a way to him how fast his mentality towards the organization changed in a mere hour and a half. Before, he only looked at as something to distract himself from his family life, however he now sees it as a chance to prove himself and his worth. Iwaizumi glances at his friend, his eyes shining in a newfound thrill that mirrors Oikawa's. Kojiro places a piece of paper down between the pair, the words written in neat kanji.

"Read it aloud."

The dark-haired teenager views the rows of faces that are patiently waiting, and he releases a small sigh before reciting the script.

You must not speak of the family to an outsider. You must be uncooperative with authorities. Turn a blind eye to he who is committing a crime. Be oblivious to he who is doing wrong. Be silent about all activity that takes place within the family and you will live in peace and without threats. A man that is blind, deaf, and silent will survive a hundred years in solitude."

Kojiro takes the two index fingers that run red, and places them down onto the bottom of the paper, leaving a print that serves as a signature. Clapping ensues, making Iwaizumi jump as the howls of congratulations from the men. Iwaizumi's family. Kojiro's hands are clasped together as he grins at the two with a recently developed fondness.

"We welcome you to Akai Shiruku."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for this chapter i had to do a lot of researching on how this would go about cause i've never seen the godfather or anything lmfao but i will now! seems cool as hell. anyway i used concepts from an italian mafia initiation mostly, and i searched for a name to use and apparently there's one named white silk, i'm not sure where, but i based the name for the mafia off of it and used red silk. red meaning the blood of the family, and silk representing the threads that connect them together. i'm putting in a lot of thought into this story lol so i hope you'll be patient while i research more on how to proceed. also thanks for reading and leaving kudos!! it makes me happy.


	5. The Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not trying to give away hints or anything but....something bad will happen soon. idk, just keep an eye out lol

As Iwaizumi walks the path towards your apartment, the atmosphere seems ominous.

His hand is reaching for his belt, where the holster for his gun sits. It's nighttime; not another person in his sight as he scans the sidewalk, the moon illuminating the pavement as his shoes scuff along. He has a feeling of being watched, and having been in the business for nearly 6 years, he knows well enough that you should always trust your instincts. The paranoia had grown when he begins to hear footsteps echoing in the distance, although it's not a man's shoe. It's the familiar click-click of heels, strutting along behind him somewhere.

His eyes squint to try and make out the silhouette, and his gut was correct, it is a woman. He can vaguely make out the swaying of her hips as she walks. Desperately, he hopes that it's you that he's looking at. Otherwise, it could appear rude for blatantly staring and he would feel disgusted for even studying another woman. As she strides closer to him, he whips his head in front after acknowledging that she is not, in fact, his girlfriend and keeps walking, almost breaking into a run. He's only a few meters from your apartment, anyway, but the feeling of anxiety still lingers.

He grabs the key from his collection on a chain to unlock the door, quickly locking it behind him as he tries to find a light switch.

"Hello?"

The sound of your voice puts him at ease, sighing softly as he stares at your figure that comes into view with loving eyes. You smile affectionately at him, and he is aware that it's his smile, you don't use it for anyone else. It's reserved for especially him. Iwaizumi meets you halfway, sweeping you into his arms and cuddling into your body. He takes in your scent, the type that is unique to you, as he rocks your bodies back and forth in a calming manner, running his tan fingers through your hair.

"I missed you so much," you mumble against his chest. It makes his heart coil and release, a warm feeling spreading throughout his body and heating him to his core. You really do feel like home.

"I missed you, too."

You lead him to the loveseat, the television projecting a news channel but the volume is low. The kitchen light is on, and Iwaizumi assumes you were washing dishes and cleaning in general. When you sit, you pull him down with you, a small smile on your face despite the tiredness in your eyes.

Iwaizumi hasn't seen you in about four days, any more and he would have lost it.

"Listen, (Name)," he starts, his eyes slowly meeting your expectant ones. He had an idea in mind, though he just wanted to explore the options. Believing that three years is considered serious, he would like to take the next step and just flat out ask you, but the thought of putting you on the spot without consulting you if you even wanted it made him feel guilty.

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

A small flash of confusion passes through your features, but it's gone in a second. You nod, rubbing circles with your hand on his knee. Iwaizumi licks his lips nervously.

"I've been thinking lately that, you know, we're getting serious."

He hears your laugh not long after, and he becomes mesmerized by it. There was no turning back when he already brought it up, however he did wonder how you would take it. He knows you as a person, your hobbies, your likes and dislikes. You liked your coffee with cream and no sugar, you enjoyed going to lunch with your friends, some of them who he's met, though rarely again. Your favorite food was miso soup, you loved action movies and books. He knows everything there is to know about you, and he loves you, flaws and all. There should be no reason to have second thoughts, and he doesn't, he's just worried that you do.

"I want to marry you."

His sudden outburst takes him by surprise, and he hopes that he didn't just create a huge pile of emotions in your mind. The fuzzy butterflies of embarrassment are wild in the pit of his stomach, and right now his heart is coming up his throat.

"You do?" Your voice is higher-pitched, laced with disbelief and happiness radiates off you in waves. He nods quickly, and within seconds he feels the weight of your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

"Do you…" he mumbles into your skin. "Do you want to marry me?"

"Yes!" There it is again, that beautiful laugh. His heart floats down to his chest, creating that same warm feeling of joy.

The loving moment is interrupted by a loud echo, similar to an explosion. You pull away, looking towards the window that is perched above the couch with wonder.

"Fireworks? That's weird."

Iwaizumi is already yanking the curtains closed, blocking out sight from the outside. He knows very well that the sound wasn't from fireworks like you suggested, it was something that was a warning to him. If he didn't leave soon you could be put in danger, and he can't allow himself to do that.

"Baby," he smiles at you. He can't let you know anything is wrong. "You want anything from the store? I’m gonna go real quick for the ATM."

"Oh, you are? Can you get me some daifuku, then?"

He nods, slipping on his shoes, "Of course."

"Thank you, my love!"

You wave him goodbye and he's grateful that you didn't offer to go with him. Taking one last look back at you, he can see you getting comfortable on the couch, a big grin never leaving your lips as you turn your eyes back to the television. It felt weird to just leave just like that, but he had to take care of it, whatever or whoever it was.

He skips down the steps of the tiny staircase that leads up to your door, reaching for his gun. He holds it aimed at nothing in particular, and if there were any bystanders he couldn't care less. He makes his way around the building stealthily, towards where he assumed the noise was.

Nobody is in plain view, that he figured, but then the same click, click of the heels were back again from behind.

He doesn't know how to react to her innocent, shy smile she gives him, so he settles on a quick nod, his gun hiding by his side. The glint in her eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

"Is it a good idea to be out alone?" She asks, stopping a few meters away from where he's standing. His handgun is now aimed at her, the behavior too suspicious to not take precautions. It didn't matter if she is a woman, and if she were a regular passerby, she would have shrieked. Yet that same innocent smile remained on her face.

"How many?"

The woman laughs, hands in the pockets of her coat. "You really think I'll tell you?"

"Yes, because I'm the one with the gun."

"You won't shoot me, though. That would give away your location."

He aims at her kneecaps, pulling back the hammer and before she had time to understand, he shot her in both. A sling of curses falls from her mouth, followed by a few shouts, probably due to the excruciating pain. He thinks to himself that he should have just killed her; she knew where you lived, and has been watching him the whole time. That was certain. Yet she had information that he needed. 

"Tell me how many."

"Fuck…" Tears spill from her eyes, makeup smearing down with them and he realizes this could've been someone's wife, girlfriend, or sister. It didn't bother him that much, it was the other organization's fault for even including her in such a situation.

"There's three," she cries, clutching onto the wound in an effort to make it stop bleeding.

"Then they can come get you."

He shoots her point blank, the bullet going through her skull, leaving a trail of blood in it's wake.

Iwaizumi runs, knowing fully well that the men weren't just going to leave a dead body in the street in plain sight. No mafia in Japan could risk getting caught. He tucks his gun back into it's holster, thanking above that it took place at least six blocks away. You mistook the gunshots as fireworks, anyway, so he shouldn't have to explain much. Just that the store he went to didn't carry daifuku.

Quickly pulling out his phone, he dials Oikawa to explain the situation. His friend picks up immediately.

"There's three men near (Name)'s apartment. I killed one of the accomplices with them and they're going to leave shortly. Send men to deal with them."

"Hanamaki and Matsukawa are already over there taking care of it. I'm surprised you even got involved."

"That woman that was with them knew where (Name) lived. I had to."

"You're with her?" A sigh is heard from the other end of the line. "Well, I don't know why I'm surprised."

Iwaizumi is quiet, thinking over his word choices to describe what happened.

"I proposed," he says lowly, almost shy. It pisses him off how talking about this with Oikawa shouldn't be embarrassing, but it is. He can basically hear his teasing smile.

"Congratulations. Anyway, I just got confirmation from Yahaba. Two men have been eliminated, one has been taken into custody."

Oikawa pauses.

"As a congratulatory present, I'll take care of the interrogation. Spend time with her."

Iwaizumi wasn't exactly expecting that from his wakagashira and it made his eyes widen with disbelief, but he didn't let it show through his voice. That would just earn more teasing.

"Thanks. Please make sure everything is taken care of."

"Don’t I always?" He chuckles, then promptly hangs up. Iwaizumi doesn't even feel as pissed off as he would be at his lieutenant's tone. A rock has been lifted from his shoulders, and he can finally wake up and spend the day with you. Excitement runs through his body, feeling giddy despite just murdering someone. He had no reason to dwell on it, however, if it was already getting taken care of.

Iwaizumi closes the door behind him, taking off his shoes and shuffling towards your body on the couch.

"That was quick, Hajime-kun!" Your face falls, but it's short-lived. "They didn't have daifuku, huh? Sometimes whenever I go they never have it, too. I guess it gets sold out fast."

"Sorry," he mutters. The shake of your head dismisses the subject, and he's pulling you close into his side when he sits next to you, sneaking in chaste kiss to your lips.

"I'm so happy I haven't stopped smiling," you giggle.

Iwaizumi grins at that. It was very compulsive to just ask you flat out like he did, and even though he hadn't proposed quite like he wanted to, the radiant glow you wore made him content with that.

"Me too."


	6. Can You Keep A Secret?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one deal with betrayal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of short... sorry lol. it's basically a filler chapter so i just needed to put it in here real quick before getting to the real issue.

Iwaizumi can't see.

A deep pressure is embedded in his chest as he tries to breathe, though that itself is a challenge. No matter how much he gasps, he can't seem to get air. There is no other sensory feeling around him as he swims in emptiness, until landing firmly on a chair. It's hard, cold and uncomfortable and causes a shiver down his spine. He is blindfolded, he realizes, when a fabric is felt along his head, covering his eyes tightly. Voices of two men are heard talking, the sound muted and distorted. Iwaizumi has a hard time staying calm as more and more voices appear and increase in volume all at once. All yelling, shouting, and threatening him, but he can't understand a word. One stands out, and it takes acute listening to actually make it out.

It's his own.

"You really think she'll want to stay, after all the shit you put her through?"

There is no doubt in his mind that he's talking about you. The question is hard, yet sounds more like a statement. It's nearing a sarcastic tone, making a mockery of him. Berating him with a simple choice of words.

"She'll leave you. She'll find someone else."

Iwaizumi can't reply, he's desperately trying to breathe and get oxygen to his lungs, and suddenly he becomes innately aware of his beating heart. The sound rings in his ears, echoing the same as the words he told himself.

You will leave him. You'll find someone else.

"No," Iwaizumi chokes out, his breathing rapid as he grips the sheets close, the knuckles of his fist turning white. "She won't leave me."

Eyes rush open, body scrambling up in the bed wildly, searching around the room for any signs of you. Sounds of metal clinking against metal are heard from down the hall and provides solace to him. He attempts to calm his escalated breathing and heart rate down, sitting at the edge of the bed and staring blankly into nothing. The nightmare was not the worst he's dealt with, albeit it wasn't the best either. His inner conscience was definitely enduring some conflict but he'd rather not handle it now. Not when things were going so well.

Padding down the all too familiar hallway that leads to the main room,

"Good morning," he says tiredly, and even though he can't get a glimpse of your face, your stiff body language indicates that something isn't right. Unlike your usual happy demeanor you wear in the mornings that bring a shine to his eyes when he sees you grin up at him, making kissy faces and ignoring the horrid morning breath. That was a trait he thought he couldn't ever get used to; you being a morning person. Yet your smile first thing when he woke up is something he could get quite accustomed to.

Unfortunately that isn't the case now.

"What's wrong?"

Sprawled out on the kitchen counter is his pistol and a card, colored blue and pink and white. An unlikely combination to see side by side.

"Your friend just dropped by."

A friend? _Oh_ , his face hardens, _Oikawa_.

"He seemed surprised to see me as if he didn't know I lived here," you laugh bitterly, voice cracking just enough to send a tinge through Iwaizumi's chest. "I'm not mad, Hajime, but why didn't you tell me?"

That is a lie that fails to trick Iwaizumi. Obviously you aren't the happiest right now. He couldn't play dumb, but he desperately wanted to. Just forget and prevaricate his way throughout the conversation. That would only make things worse, he knew how this could play out. He doesn't know what's the lesser evil; you knowing a secret he's hid so well, or his own friend, colleague, betraying him. He needs to kick his ass later.

"Don't do this, Hajime. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

Hurt is laced in your voice, along with betrayal and just coldness. You don't look at him when you speak and it drives him up the wall, begging you in his mind to let him see your face and apologize.

"Oikawa, was it? He said something like, 'congratulations from me and the mafia'," you say the last word with confusion, "and I want to know. Why did you hide this from me, Hajime?"

"I couldn't just tell you, it's not that easy," he sighs, "I wanted to protect you from what I do. It's dangerous."

"Still," your voice is rising, reaching a high shrill and hinting you're close to tears. Taking a shaky deep breath, you finally face him and wipe an escaping tear. His instincts tell him to just envelop you in a hug, but uncertainty pulls at his limbs, making him stay in place.

"Are you afraid of me now?"

You shake your head quickly and relief flows through him. "No, because I know you're my Hajime."

 _My Hajime_. _Yes, I'm yours._

"Look," you sigh, "I wouldn't have felt this way if you told me yourself, but I had to hear it from your friend. And on top of that, he acted like I knew already! I understand that it's dangerous for me, but I trust you. I know that you will never hurt me or put me in danger. But if you still want to marry me, Hajime, we can't keep secrets!" 

Reacting on his intuition, or maybe he's just reading too much into it, he steps forward and pulls you into his chest. It was comforting that you don't shy away, or worse, shove him off, but instead wrap your arms around his neck instantly.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he whispers, and there is nothing but sincerity. "I didn't want to lose you because of it. I didn't know how you would take it, and honestly, I wasn't planning on telling you. It's hard to explain."

"I understand." God, why are you so empathetic? "But you will never lose me, Hajime-kun."

Quiet laughter reaches his ears and it brings warmth travelling through his insides. You lift your head up to press a kiss to his neck, the action evoking a small happy murmur to hum in his throat.

In this moment, he decides that you're his priority. In the mess of issues that you two fought over, just little flits of arguments, they were never serious and were left in the past, as he hopes this one would be no different. You deserve to be made his highest precedence, and to others it might seem irresponsible, just leaving the people who he considered his family-his only family-behind and focusing on you. They are his support system when things are rough, _Oikawa_ has always been at his side throughout the past 7 years, his whole life basically. Though when you came into his life on a whim, on a silver platter, the world he lived in no longer revolved around the family. It revolves around you, only you. The oath he swore when he was eighteen didn't seem that much of importance anymore, as bad as it may seem now to think otherwise. Hell, even his eighteen year old self would have been pissed at him. The family is first. They would always be first. Not a woman. 

The only problem that rises is the fact that he has to find a way to deal with the family now that knew you carried classified information. Naturally they would become suspicious and have doubts, but he is the leader. They had trust in him, just like you, if not in a different sense. Occasionally, Iwaizumi forgets that he's the oyabun, so in reality he could do whatever he desired. Though questions would arise at the news, he didn't need to offer any explanation, and he could carry on with his life with you.  Any affiliations he has with the family would have to be ended, though, but he's very aware that it won't be that easy and would only cause a more complicated situation. 

He just has to find a way to deal with Oikawa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if you guys remember the first chapter where it was explained that he couldn't tell you he is in the mafia or else he would have to drop you. i guess i should also mention that it's a choice where he would have to choose b/w the mafia and you. clearly iwaizumi has to sort out his priorities lol


	7. Amor Omnia Vincit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl on the subway is stunning, way out of his league. Iwaizumi clearly has no chance, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how could i continue w/o telling you all how you and iwaizumi came to be three years back?

Wind makes Iwaizumi shiver, hastily pulling his scarf closer to his mouth to prevent himself from breathing in the harsh freezing air. A typical cold day in Tokyo; everyone on the streets dressed accordingly in long, sweeping coats that are probably lined for insulation. Minding his own business, avoiding eye contact with each passerby, he tries to stay hidden as best as one can in a semi-crowded area.

Arriving at the subway station, he locates the booths to buy tickets and sighs, relishing in the warmth that the building provides as he stands behind a young woman, probably around his own age. She's much smaller in size, wrapped in a camel-colored blazer paired with black pants and shoes. Her hair looks soft, really silky too…but then again, why the hell is he looking so closely at her? If she happened to turn around at this moment he would look like a creep. Discreetly, he shifts back and gives her more space than necessary, and she probably didn't even notice or care.

She adjusts her position and he can now view her face, and one quick glance turns into full on gawking. She is beautiful in every sense of the word and he can feel his soul descending from his body when she sends him a small smile, her cheeks still flushed from the cold outside, before she disappears into the sea of people. A clearing of a throat from behind him is his cue that he should now buy his own ticket, and with embarrassed hands he does, all the while thinking of the crinkling of her eyes.

As he waits for the subway, he scolds himself that he should be thinking about more important things than a woman but he couldn't help it. Ingrained in his memory is the image of her and like a high school boy with a crush, he can't get it out of his head while wondering who she is, what's she like, where is she going.

Creepy, yes, he's aware. But he thanks God that nobody around him can read his thoughts.

A voice on the speaker announces the arrival of the next chute, and like a robot he begins walking towards the edge, anticipating it's accession. Metal doors open automatically, he steps inside along with the ten or fifteen others that were waiting with him.

He considers himself quite lucky to see the same woman already making herself comfortable in the back, opposite of him, pulling out her phone and typing away, completely unaware of his blatant staring. Whether it was fate, or just a coincidence, it doesn't matter because he'll take both. Not a few seconds later and she's looking up, and he can't stop himself admiring the fluidity in her movements as she flips her hair behind her shoulder, and runs a hand through the front. A blush scatters her cheeks when she meets his eyes, and his breath catches in his chest. For crying out loud, he's twenty-two years old and he's still acting like a preteen going through puberty. Not to mention he probably scared her or made her think he's a stalker. Risking his chances once more, he sneaks another peek at her a moment after just in time to witness a tiny grin on her lips, the sight making his heart pound more than it should.

Overthinking is one of Iwaizumi's best habits, so he reads into things compulsively and it usually ends bad. But he hopes, he really does, that he's not digging his own awkward grave and searching for something that isn't there.

Being fixated on a particular spot on the floor takes up most of his time as the journey takes a little more than five minutes to his destination, a shopping district where he's supposed to meet someone for a pickup. Destiny is knocking on his front door when he sees her stand at the same time out of the corner of his eye, and so far he is successful in not riveting his head in her direction. Hurriedly, he makes it out of the car before she does and he thinks he's off scot-free, and he can finally get over his make-believe fantasy of her he created on a whim.

There is a small tap on his shoulder, and methodically, he turns around to answer. Of course, he is met face-to-face with the woman of his dreams, the one with perfect etiquette and an ethereal glow to her being. A girl way too out of his league, not even in the same sport, and is so breathtaking that he isn't the same hardened man as he was an hour ago.

He remarks to himself that she smells nice, like peaches and vanilla, and it's a heavenly scent that does her justice.

A small hand reaches out to him, a card of some sort held between two fingers with writing he can't decipher.

"I hope you'll actually talk to me instead of just staring," she giggles, a delightful sound to his ears and his heart is lodged in his throat, preventing him from managing a coherent reply. He takes the card before she changes her mind and she winks, obviously confident and he can't imagine anything sexier.

"Call me sometime."

With that being said, she's sauntering away and he watches with disbelief that he, for once, didn't misread the situation and make a mocker of himself. His stomach does flips as he peers down at the numbers and her name etched onto the surface, already memorizing the numerals in case he loses it.

Bodies are bumping into him yet he doesn't mind, just moving to the side of the sidewalk and marveling at her pretty handwriting.

(Name) (Last Name). Even her name is lovely and elegant.

______

 

Her eyes are closed in bliss, small sighs leaving her mouth with every thrust, a moan each time he really curled his hips in. God, he swears he can live between her thighs, the feeling so enchanting and captivating, leaving him wanting more. A small tug on the hair by the nape of his neck earns a groan, deep in the back of his throat. Soft, plush lips pepper his jawline with hard kisses, latching onto the skin and sucking. It's so erotic the way she reacts to him, so enticing the way she meets his thrusts with her own. He likes-no, loves-that he's her source of pleasure, loves the fact that she's a squirming and groaning mess beneath him and she's enjoying it.

"Does that feel good?" He grunts out, lidded eyes watching her breathe out a yes.

"So good, it feels so good!"

A furrow in her forehead hints that she's nearing her end, soon to become undone. She's gripping his biceps as he burrows himself deeper, painted fingernails digging into the tanned skin.

Iwaizumi dreamed of this moment, numerous times before, but a simple dream could never compare to what's real. They always left him wanting more in the end, but that's no different. He doesn't think he could ever get tired of being inside of her, he can't get enough of the warm and flushed and sweaty mess that is making love.

"Iwa-kun," she gasps, a lewd yet divine sound that pushes him closer to the edge, "I'm almost-fuck, I'm almost there!"

A mumble of agreement falls from his lips, too possessed by pleasure. The air surrounding him is hot, beads of perspiration falling down his chest and dotting his forehead.

Her breasts are felt against him and he remembers how he must have looked, seeing her unclasp her bra and reveal them for the first time. His cock came to life surprisingly quick, making his jeans too tight and mouth water. She had such sex appeal, such a dark and lustful glint in her eyes that seduced him instantly, almost bewitching.

"Fuck, (Name)," he draws out before he's coming, shadows of her name still stumbling from his mouth as his body shakes and goes limp. A few moments later and he's sliding down her body, fingertips ghosting over her soft skin until he's faced with glistening pink flesh.

With admiration he observes his own come dripping from her core; it's a vulgar sight and reminds him of something one could see in a porn scene. He's thankful that she's on birth control, as he didn't come prepared with condoms, but who really expects sex with only four months of dating? Call him old-fashioned, it's just a morals thing that he hates explaining to anyone else.

Iwaizumi wastes no time delving into her with his tongue, circling the sensitive nub and massaging lightly.

He doesn't know what his standards were for the taste, but it exceeds whatever they were and combined with his own come he isn't sure how he feels about it. It's amazing, nonetheless, and he sucks hard on her clit to satisfy his longing for more. Adding a finger into her heat, curling it against the textured walls earns a mewl from her, hands clutching the sheets. Maybe it was actually a good idea to research how to give good head.

A low high-pitched whine and she orgasms onto his mouth, her torso flexing beneath his hands. Peering up with curious eyes, she looks spent and thoroughly fucked, her breathing ragged and slowing by the second.

A soft laugh makes him perk up from beside her after a few minutes pass, and he's running his fingers through satin tresses.

"You look so sexy in between my legs, Iwa-kun," she teases. He sure as hell didn't expect that, and despite all of his actions, he's embarrassed and doesn't meet her teasing gaze.

"Come shower with me."

She tugs on his hand, much larger in comparison, as she sits up on the bed, her naked body still striking him in awe as if it's the first time he's seen it.

A choice is not given to him, however, as tempting as it is to just go immediately to sleep. Her feet pad across the wooden floors, leading him to the bathroom with a happy aura engulfing her, humming a tune in a dreamlike manner.

It's dangerous, especially given his circumstances, but that's inevitable.

But being here with her gives him a different thrill, one that cannot be found by killing and committing crimes and although he's never experienced the feeling before, he knows what love is.

The funny feeling in his chest and the lingering sensation of drunkenness that only occurs when he's talking, laughing, and smiling with you. That makes it well worth it.


	8. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi didn't want this to happen. Hell, he didn't even expect it.

Oikawa has done a lot of things to piss Iwaizumi off. Numerous times he's been a smartass, disobeyed orders and acted on his own, and overall he's stubborn and hard to work with. Sometimes Iwaizumi questions why he's even kept him as his wakagashira for this long. Just a mere three years ago and he was the previous leader's first lieutenant, and he'd never been someone so difficult. Always doing what he was asked of, dealing with so much bullshit with a proud face to even be a part of the family, all the while operating under intense pressure from his superior who was a bigger jackass than he could be. Up until his death, he was a reliable person with nothing but good intentions as far as mafia work could go. Iwaizumi made a promise to himself to lead under his abandoned legacy and so far, it's been pretty well. Of course there were things he couldn't control, but he does his job with pride and it's never as boring as a desk job. Overtime, however, that desk job seems to be more desirable than this, not that he could get one anyway, what with his criminal record and all. Even walking around the city could be dangerous.

His wakagashira sits in front of him, legs crossed and his posture straight as if he's waiting for praise. Instead, he is met with a hard stare and clenched fists that are itching to come into contact with his face.  
"Tell me why you thought it was a bright fucking idea to do that."

Rubbing his temples, Iwaizumi can feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head with annoyance. Not that that feeling is anything knew with Oikawa.

"I'm hurt, Iwa-chan. I thought you would be thanking me."

A huge sigh escapes from his mouth, his arms crossed in thought of how to deal with the situation that didn't involve killing him.

"In fact, you should," the mouse-brown haired man continues, eyes narrowing, "I knew very well you weren't going to tell her yourself."

"Even if that was the case, do you not remember the oath we live by? You don't fuck with a guy's girlfriend, Oikawa. You had no business doing what you did."

"I made it my business. No offense, Iwa-chan, but it has become a problem to have to remind _you_ of the oath. The family comes first, just in case you forgot. Again."

"I haven't forgotten once what the family means to me," Iwaizumi hisses defensively.

"Then why don't you act like it?"

A ghost of a smile is on his lips, mocking and threatening and it takes serious willpower to not tackle him to the floor and wail on him. He knows Oikawa's intentions are pure and are for the sake of the mafia, but he didn't need him to blow his own cover and expose his identity like he did. It was a snake move. Iwaizumi is just thankful that you didn't take it too out of proportion.

"You want my job so fucking bad, right? Is that what it is? Wakagashira isn't good enough for you?"

"Please, Iwa-chan, I practically already have your job. Might as well just be named the oyabun," he hums, his arms folding behind his head.

"I leave you to deal with things for one fucking day while I'm busy with her. One day. Now you're sitting here like you have the weight of the world on your dumbass shoulders. You know what, you want my title-"

The familiar ringtone of your number sounds in Iwaizumi's back pocket, and Oikawa rolls his eyes, looking pointedly away to give somewhat privacy. Without a second thought the leader answers in his signature, "Hi, baby," that makes you giggle shyly.

Except there is no giggle. Not even a response for a long few seconds.

"Hey, Iwaizumi," a colorful sing-songy voice that definitely does not match yours is in his ears, a confused frown already forming. "Don't know if you remember our buddy that was captured around a week ago, you know the one you ended up killing? Yeah, that's no problem, but uh, we got your little girlfriend here."

The man, he's sure it is a man, pauses to laugh. Why was he acting like they're best friends catching up? Even the fact that you were captured still didn't register in his head until a few moments later and his eyes are widening, the hair standing up on his neck and his brain going haywire with anxiety and anger, all bubbling in one huge pot. 

"What the fuck-"

"Hey, no, no, none of that. You listen up. Bring us the money. You know exactly what the hell I'm talking about, and you know where we're located. Not surprised if you know who I am, either. Anyway, show up with it and she doesn't get hurt. Although, I'm not sure what you define as hurt, per se, but-"

"Don't even fucking touch her!"

"Oops! Too late," he chuckles. It's almost clown-like. "So, like I said. Bring us the money and you'll get your girlfriend back."

Iwaizumi has to assess the situation, and he's innately aware that Oikawa has heard all of the conversation and he's probably going to get shit for it. Thinking back on what the man has said, he's most likely addressing about the man who had a bug, but didn't Oikawa say that he took care of it? He can't even think about that now. Who knows what they're doing to you. Who knows what they've done to you. It's driving him up the wall and he can't stop fidgeting.

With one last glance at Oikawa, who gives a faint nod that offers slight reassurance and encouragement, he replies. 

"When?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! sorry to leave you on this cliffhanger but im gonna be out of the country for 2 weeks so i'll make sure to have an extra long super detailed chapter for you!! please look forward to it! also try and guess who the caller is~~~ someone.....hmm....spiky...red hair maybe?? :P


	9. Family Means Nobody Gets Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait!!! ive had writers block as soon as i got back and i know its not as long as i promised but we have yet to get to the action so i'd rather leave you guys on cliffhangers.

Three days have passed.

Long, agonizing and miserable days where Iwaizumi's eyes have watched the clock, hypnotized by each passing second. Thoughts have run through his mind continuously, conjuring up a plan that would leave you safe and with little damage, besides what could have already been done. That idea makes tears well up and he wipes away at them angrily, disappointed in himself for even letting this happen. He couldn't control it, but he holds himself responsible and untrustworthy. How could he have been so careless?

Oikawa has tried numerous times to get his friend to eat or to say anything besides "it's all my fault". It takes a lot of willpower for the wakagashira to bite his tongue and fight back the "I told you so" in the back of his throat. The pair have been throwing options between them, judging on the best one and sometimes it feels like Oikawa is talking to a brick wall. The oyabun's responses are short and mumbled and he get's irritated when asked to speak up.

Oikawa knows that it's eating him inside; the thought of you possibly being dead. He can tell that's all Iwaizumi is thinking about. His mind wanders to another possible situation; it could all be just a trap to lure them in for some revenge and money. It hurts Oikawa to see his best friend in shambles, and it was very petty of him, he admits, to do what he did. He's not that much of an asshole to not admit when he's wrong. The only way to make it up to him is to bring you back.

"Iwaizumi," Oikawa begins, making the eyes of everyone perk up at the break of silence. "We're leaving soon. Try and remember what he said."

Grabbing his briefcase that held the ransom, he stalks out the room while beckoning the three others to follow. Iwaizumi suggested that Kyoutani should be included in this, and albeit the wakagashira didn't know why specifically, he agreed. Oikawa chose Yahaba and Hanamaki, both two very skilled and experienced kyodai. He vaguely remembers a similar situation to this with the late oyabun five years ago, the man nearly dying for his little brother who got caught in the crossfire and held for ransom.

"Family is family," he recalls Iwaizumi declaring. "We'll do everything we can to save him."

Oikawa supposes that should be a phrase he should be following now.

Iwaizumi's whole body is numb as he stares at a fixed spot on his desk, a scratch on the wood and on muscle memory he turns his head to look at the framed picture of you. Smiling, wearing a white blouse as you sit across the table from him on your first date. You weren't looking at his phone, too distracted and joking about something when he snapped the photo. Of course you were embarrassed but he refused to delete it, claiming it to be one of the first of many.

His eyes move towards his right bicep. Inked brown skin showing off a variety of designs and although they all hold significance, your beautiful face stands out the most to him. The artist managed to capture the emotion in your eyes perfectly as well as your features.

He can feel his body get heavy as he pulls himself up from the chair, grabbing a coat and sauntering after the men in the hallway.

Standing patiently as they wait for orders, one look at them and Iwaizumi can infer from the tired and anxious faces that they're reaching their limit. He knows how selfish it is to make everything revolve around you, constantly think of what's best for you instead of the family, surrounding himself and his thoughts of you instead of focusing on work. It's hard on them; they're his brothers. As much as he hates admitting it, Oikawa is right.

"Hey," a voice barks, obviously irritated. Surprised to see it belong to Yahaba, the oyabun's eyes narrow and opens his mouth to ask when he got so brave, but is shut down and forced to listen.

"None of that right now. We've stuck with you for three years now. Not once have you made us question whether or not you're a good leader. This doesn't change anything."

A small smirk graces Oikawa's lips, making Iwaizumi twitch with stubborn annoyance and nod his head begrudgingly at Yahaba's outburst.

"Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind," the wakagashira declares, nudging his best friend.

"Where'd you get that bullshit from?" Iwaizumi deadpans, shoving his hand off his shoulder.

"You've never seen Lilo and Stitch?! For fuck's sake, Iwa-chan!'

________

 

It takes a long while before Iwaizumi's eyes focus in the dark. The stench of ash and gun smoke and cigarettes reminds him of a stakeout behind a restaurant when he was a kyodai, but that's a memory he doesn't really recall with fondness. His first kill: sloppy, his aim was off, but disgusting and oddly satisfying. At least it was at the time when he got praise and his reward money.

Yahaba follows him closely through the corridor, a small tinge of light peeking from the crack underneath the door at the end.

Iwaizumi is rather skeptical of how easy it was to gain entrance to the building in the first place, but they did invite him to their office.

Oikawa is outside, hiding in the nearby forest and giving orders to Hanamaki and Matsukawa. It's a rule that only one high command can go on life-threatening missions, in case the one should die and the other would take his place. Iwaizumi felt guilty as it is by involving the mafia with his personal life, something that was supposed to be secret, along with the fact that you were his girlfriend, not Oikawa's. He had to see with his own eyes that you were okay, should you be.

Kyoutani is scoping further down the hallway when Iwaizumi scans the door, contemplating kicking it open with gusto or just knocking. The first option seems too naïve, so he settles on the latter.

"Want me to go with you inside?" Yahaba offers in a whisper.

"No," Iwaizumi mutters, a deep breath leaving his nose. "I'd rather do this alone."

"You insane, boss?"

He shoots daggers at the kyodai until realizing that he's only concerned, but it's too selfish of him to ask for anything more. It's more than he expected for a team to go with and back him up. Even Oikawa, his friend who had secret jealousy and motive to sabotage his position, offered help, though Iwaizumi's unsure of how trustworthy he is now. It's way too late to turn back, anyhow.

"It's my responsibility. I can't risk losing family."

The valiant look in his eyes is admirable according to Yahaba, as he shares a knowing glance with Kyoutani and nodding encouragingly to the oyabun.

"Oikawa."

Static and then a clear sound is in the leader's ears, confirming that his friend is listening.

"I'm going in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a headcannon that oikawa loves disney movies and he does love aliens, and stitch just so happens to be an alien technically...hmm.. 2+2= oikawa loves stitch??


	10. Retrieval

"Go get her, Iwa-chan. Remember the plan."

Oikawa's voice on the other end of the line, filled with enthusiasm and sincerity that is usually lacked, makes Iwaizumi's doubts disappear.

He raises a fist to the wooden door, knocking twice before entering without waiting for a response.

The lights are flickering, damaged and have yet to be repaired, and he shuts the door behind him before making his way to the desk at the opposite side of the large room. Clenching the briefcase handle, he's tempted to just chuck it at the smug looking red-head sitting in that chair and demanding where you are. Knowing well enough that doing so wouldn't help him, and he's the one in the most vulnerable position. That would just create more problems and he's forced to deal with it professionally.

"Thanks for coming here," the man smiles, but it fails to reach his eyes.

"Looking for your girlfriend?"

He seemed to notice Iwaizumi glancing around in every corner of the room with a desperate look in his eyes, and the man attempts to sound empathetic but again, he fails.

"She'll come later, don't worry. We have business to attend to, after all."

Tightening his jaw, he nods. The red-head is right.

"One million, right?" Iwaizumi sets the case on the desk, punching in the code and shoving it towards the man for him to revel in.

"That's correct, sir. Now," he grabs a crisp thousand yen pack, securely wrapped in a rubber band and swipes his finger along the edges.

"My associate will be counting this to make sure it's the right amount. You alright with that, Iwaizumi-san?"

"Yes."

"Good. Not like you had a choice, anyway."

Another man in a tan suit and dirty blonde hair reaches for the case, closing it and walking briskly to the connected room.

"You got what you wanted. Now give me what I want."

"Not so fast, Iwaizumi-san!" He laughs. "I haven't even introduced myself yet."

"I know who you are. Tendou Satori, oyabun of Burakkugūru. I'm already filled in."

"Ah, I see." Red eyes crinkle up at him and it's hard to believe that this man is a leader, but he can't judge based on personality. Not with Oikawa as his wakagashira. "You did some research on me."

Iwaizumi is sick of this casual talk when he doesn't even know if you're safe or dead. Or if you're even here and they set him up.

"So you came alone or did your associates come along?"

Tendou's chin is in his hands, waiting patiently and clearly in no rush to get straight to the point.

"I have a few of my men in case I need backup."

"Not even going to try and lie? That's a missed opportunity, sir."

"It's useless when you have cameras already on them."

The pair sit in silence, watching for the other to speak, for a few moments before Tendou motions towards one his kyodai, who nods and proceeds to the connected room, bringing along another young man. Tan suit appears again and bows his head to the red-head, returning to his previous position by the window.

"Want your girlfriend now?"

Iwaizumi grits his teeth, not even bothering to hide the roll of his eyes. "It would be nice, yeah."

"Bring her in then."

Although their eyes are on each other, Tendou is obviously talking to one of his men. One who takes heavy, stomping footsteps as he saunters once again to the connected room. A screeching along the wooden floors makes Iwaizumi cringe, resembling nails on a chalkboard. Tendou stands for the first time with his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, the eerie smile never leaving his face. As soon as the man walks in with the chair, Iwaizumi's heart clenches in his chest.

Muffled screams that he wishes he could soothe echo in the room, a blindfold and a piece of fabric covering the mouth.

Tendou takes the back of the chair and flings it towards Iwaizumi, sending you tumbling while still tied down. Iwaizumi is grateful that he does that, though he does grate his teeth, leaving the monitor on his desk left unsupervised. The cameras watched by no one.

Sending a glare upwards to the man wearing that same smug look, he bends down faster than his mind realizes and rushes to pull off the blindfold. He'll recognize your eyes faster than anyone else's; he just wants to make sure it's you.

Thankfully enough, it is.

They're watering, tears spilling and they're red, but they're yours.

They widen once they settle on him, and relief flows through him and wipes away at the tears, caressing your messy and sweaty hair and he almost forgets it's not just the two of you.

There's a lot he wants to say, but not in front of them.

The gag comes off without a second to spare, and there you go, crying and choking out inaudible words, clutching at his sleeves.

"Oikawa," he murmurs. Only you are able to hear him and he knows that his lieutenant can as well. "We're leaving."

Iwaizumi glances up at the man and smirks, catching him off guard, and on cue, Yahaba, Matsukawa and Hanamaki burst through the room, armed with M4A1 carbine rifles aimed and ready.

Before the men can react, they start shooting, the loud cracks of the fire and the debris of the flesh and blood flying to the floor, clouding his sight and hearing. Soon it comes to an end once all four of the men drop dead, Tendou's cocky and too prideful grin fading quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you guys don't know what a M4A1 is, basically it's a fully automatic rifle. a fully automatic gun can fire multiple rounds while a semi jus fires it w/ a few seconds in between each shot. imo a fully makes it easier to kill quickly which in this scenario, is what iwa and oikawa wanted so they brought out heavy machinery lmao. in case u were wondering how i planned this out. tendou and his crew didn't even see it coming and i bet you didn't guess this would happen, but i really just went out on a limb here lol.


	11. Abstract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry ive been MIA! college started up again and i've been busy. but i finally got some free time! anyway, i been thinking over it the past few days, over how this story is gonna end. i think you guys will like it but i shall not tell any spoilers!!

Iwaizumi doesn't, and he can't, and won't let go of you the remainder of the night. You're asleep in his arms, which is much more than he could of asked for, yet you refused to sleep by yourself and he wouldn't of let you, anyway. After all you've been through, all that has happened, you still trust him and he can't help but feel like he betrayed you.

"Iwaizumi-san."

Running a hand through your hair, he glanced up at Kindaichi standing patiently in the doorframe.

"I brought bandages. For her."

"Thanks. I'll take care of it."

Under your eyes, there are dark circles and between them, a tense crease. Your face is painted with stress like you're experiencing a bad dream, but then the crease fades and calmness takes over.

With gentle hands he lifts up your arm, where a number of bruises and scratches lay on the surface. Near the elbow, on the forearm, on your hand. And he kisses every one.

You stare, eyes half-lidded, at his actions, your head hazy and heavy, and you can't properly form words, though many race through your mind. Blankly, you watch him, the call of sleep tempting to envelope you.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, aware of your impassive gaze, reaching for the antibacterial ointment and spreading it along the open wounds. You don't respond and he doesn't know why he expected you to. Maybe a small part in his unconscious wanted to hear you say that you forgive him, as if he somehow deserves it.

Glancing up at that empathetic look in your eyes, a pang hits his chest and has to tear himself away. Why don't you hate him? Why aren't you yelling?

"This is my fault. I'm sorry."

Dark eyes soon brim with tears, and he tries to blink them away, but it isn't successful.

"My love," you grasp his hand weakly, searching for his fingers to lace your own through, and he doesn't like it.

"Don't call me that. How can you act like this? Why aren't you pissed?"  
"It wasn't your fault."

The tears run freely, streaming down tan cheeks and he lets them.

"It is. I knew this would happen and I was selfish, I was in love, so I thought I could make it work," he mumbles bitterly, and it's the first time he's ever felt so vulnerable. He's never cried in front of you and this feeling, being exposed and sniffling, almost makes him ashamed.

"It's too dangerous for you. As much as I love you now, I can't let you go. But I don't ever want to put you in that position again."

A large, calloused hand grasp yours and Iwaizumi holds them to his chest, allowing you to feel his heartbeat through his shirt. It always makes you feel safe when he does that; it became habit whenever he was stressed or frustrated. You were his stabilizer, and whenever he felt the warmth of your palms against his chest it always calmed him down.

"I've thought a lot about it over the past week, but once I found out you were taken, I made my decision."

Worry clouded your eyes, a split second of disaster flashing in your mind, but disappeared as quickly as a comet once he continued. The tears ceased, the trails hastily wiped away, and his eyes gazing into yours with so much sincerity and determination.

"I'm leaving the mafia."

That catches you off guard. As his girlfriend, you knew him better than anyone else. You'd seen all parts of him, you've learned his habits and his mind so well that you could possibly predict his next move. The thing is, you've never seen him so passionate about anything in the three years you've been together. You both did activities you wanted to do, and he didn't question or complain.

Judging by how much effort he has put in to his job, it made no sense to you how he could throw it away.

After a very long moment of searching your eyes, desperate for a response that could at least encourage him, you give him a small smile that surprised him.

"Hajime," you grin up at him, finally reciprocating his touch with your own that he leans in to. "I have an idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another cliffhanger.....yet again! it's my signature chapter ending! :-)


	12. It's Like A Fairy Tale

In the beginning, nearing the time of your first date, there was a tugging feeling in his chest that he couldn't ignore. The way your eyes captivated him, your bright and wide smile, and the stories of your life that you told with ease, not questioning if he deserved to hear them. Around the fourth date, a simple café in the central of Tokyo, allowed him to finalize the tugging feeling and recognize it as want. He became desperate; calling you every day after he knew you were off work, making sure you ate your meals, and were taking care of yourself. Every time he showed up at your home, the small apartment that you only settled on for the great view of the skyline, he made sure he took care of you and showed you sides of him no one else knew existed. Helping you study, seeing as you were a student, and awarding you with kisses for every five pages read for your literature final, although some of those kisses were given just because he couldn't help himself.

He didn't think anyone could have such a huge impact on his life. Wherever you go, he will follow, and he doesn't think he could ever stop his feelings from growing. He doesn't want them to, anyway.

Now, three years later, is it still possible to be completely enamored with you? To wake up every day and see a missed call and feel your heart growing full? Visiting you a week after he left for a business trip, and you grin and kiss him like it's been ages, and to him it feels like a millennium? Iwaizumi thinks so.

In his complex and extensive mind, everything was so simple with you by his side. His worries just became a slight aggravation, and one quick text from you wondering if he ate would make his day brighter. It was amazing to him.

With all these reasons previously conscious and clear, Iwaizumi believes they are responsible for you joining him in his office, right next to him where you should be.

He knew it felt different, bringing you into the room where heinous actions have occurred, but he didn't predict how sexy you looked just sitting on top of his desk. Your feet barely graze the floor, absentmindedly swinging your legs back and forth with a rather nonchalant look, despite having a hostage tied in front of you.

Maybe you being kidnapped had changed you, and perhaps made you feel a different way towards those in the shadowed business. Iwaizumi wonders if you feel the same towards him.

Throwing an inquisitive gaze over his shoulder, the small smile and warmth in your eyes lets him know.

"I've never seen a man bring a woman into such affairs," the hostage grimaces at him once Iwaizumi's eyes meet his.

"Does her being here make you nervous or what?"

"No," the man says sharply, his eyes ghosting over your figure. "She just doesn't belong."

"Oh, believe me, she does. Now watch your fucking mouth."

When you first suggested the idea, Iwaizumi wasn't really fond of it, and thought of it as too dangerous. Despite you being ten feet away from this pity of a man, it was still too close for Iwaizumi's liking. However, having his stress-reliever and comfort nearby, it did have quite a positive impact.

"Mind telling me where you were a few nights ago? Let's say, Tuesday night? Around eleven?"

The man glowers and stays silent, holding his breath slightly and the oyabun can tell that he's close to getting a confession.

"Probably doing some shit," he mutters.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Some shit, meaning I was doing something dumb."

The conversation was going to go nowhere if he kept this up. Sighing, Iwaizumi turns and reaches behind you to the tiny drawer on the other side of his desk, and grabs hold of his revolver.

"Maybe this will jog your memory a little bit better," he voices hopefully, loading it and pulling back the hammer.

He holds it at his side casually as the man shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"I-I don't remember. I could have been doing anythi-"

A loud bang makes you flinch back, your eyes searching for the point of impact, and end on the hostage's bleeding foot. He's groaning and his eyes are clenched shut in pain as he attempts to provide solace to his aching limb.

"Oh, sorry. My hand slipped. Anyway, you were saying?"

Iwaizumi stands with one hand in his pocket, sauntering over to the man from leaning on his desk, his other hand waving the gun as he speaks. You can say you've never seen your boyfriend in such a state, though everyone around you in the room acts like it's a normal occurrence.

"I could have been doing anything! I don't fucking-I don't fucking remember!" The man sobs, and it almost earns a tug at your heartstrings if Iwaizumi hadn't filled you in before. He was smuggling drugs into his own mafia, though they were stolen from Red Silk and thus leaving him in this situation. You can't imagine what other punishments would be used if one would have done something much worse.

"That's all you're gonna give me? Alright, that's fine."

A calloused fist yanks the dirty hair of the man, exposing his neck with his head thrown back, the other hand pressing the gun into a space underneath his jaw.

"Tell me, Shuko, and be honest. Do I look like a bitch?"

"Wh-what?!"  
Another shot sounds, this time inducing a hole in Shuko's bicep.

"Do I look like a fucking bitch?"

"No!" He wails, and it takes a lot of willpower to stop yourself from giggling, so you settle on the tiniest grin.

"Then why are you trying to fuck me like a bitch, Shuko? You think I'm fucking stupid?"

"I-I didn't! I didn't mean-!"

"Didn't mean what? Oh, you didn't mean to fuck me over and take shit that doesn't belong to you? I lost money from clients because of you, money that was fucking mine. You get that?"

Shuko nods feebly, or as much as he can in his current position and it makes Iwaizumi scowl.

"I don't think you fucking do, otherwise you wouldn't be doing this dumb shit. You guys must be pretty fucking broke and desperate at Kumonosu."

"I-I'm sorry!"

"Tell that to God when you meet him."

The fatal shot makes your ears ring and heart pound as you watch the brain matter and blood splatter behind Shuko, and it's a sight you force yourself to look away from. The way the kyodai just pick up the remains like it was nothing, like a man didn't just die in front of them. In a way it scared you, and it was odd, because it also made you feel safe.

Iwaizumi gently takes hold of your chin, in his own way saying that he wants you to look at him. Those same eyes that saw red paint the wall, the same hand that held the gun, looking at you and holding your face so delicately and concerned to make sure you were fine. It's a stark contrast and to tell the truth, it made you feel flattered.

"You wanna go somewhere?" He asks suddenly, his hands finding their way around your waist.

You manage a nod, and he's already grabbing your hand and you follow him out the door, glancing behind you as you both flee the base.

It takes some time before the two of you come across an empty field you found while walking aimlessly, scattered with dandelions and random weeds. It was unlikely to find such a lot in Tokyo, yet you weren't in a busy and bustling area to begin with. It's night, and the stars meet your eyes and the moon shines across the horizon, a little part of it missing yet still just as lovely.

Iwaizumi sits down, patting the spot next to him and you oblige, immediately huddling under his arm that he offers. He smiles down at you and he captures this moment with you in his mind, wanting to see your face under the light the moon exerts and the small blush that colors your cheeks forever.

"I want you to know that I won't be like that with you."

"I already knew that. You don't seem to get that I trust you."

He sighs, ruffling your hair and rolling his eyes. "I get it, I just want you to keep it in mind. Not everyone is as nice as me, you know. So don't go around trusting every single person that comes your way."

"Hajime," you huff, "I'm not that naïve."

"You really are, though."

"Hmph!"

The sound makes him chuckle and he digs his hand into his pocket, and fishes around for the little black box he brought along. Once his hand finds it, he discreetly holds it at his side opposite to you.

"Hey, can you stand up? I think you're sitting on something I dropped."

"Huh?" You glance around you, slowly making your way off the ground and brushing off any grass that could have got on your clothes. "Hajime, what the hell could you have brought?"

He takes the opportunity you give him by facing away, and pushes himself onto one knee, already nervous and his heart feels like it's beating against his ribcage.

"Did you find it yet?"

Quickly, he sees your silhouette twirl around and reveal the incredulous look adorning your features. You open your mouth to speak yet nothing makes it's way out, and you shut it as a result.

"I know we've talked about it already, but I want to do it the right way. Make it meaningful, you know?"

Iwaizumi beams up at you and a sniffle manages to sneak itself into the mix of you wiping a stray tear. You were always so emotional when it comes to cheesy things, and this time is no different. Iwaizumi always mocked you for it, albeit jokingly.

"(Name), I never really imagined myself in love with someone before. I pictured my life so different than how it is now, and now I don't want it any other way. I'm not really good with explaining how I feel that well, but…You've taught me a lot of things that changed who I am, and how I look at life. You've provided me endless support, your attention, your love. And now I can't live without them, and I don't want it to go away."

"Hajime," you whimper.

"Let me finish, baby. I want you to continue to be there for me as I will always be for you. I want you to look at me and know that I'll take care of you, I'll never hurt you, and that you'll be safe. I'll be a good man to you, because you deserve it. I'd love for you to take care of me as well."

Gasping, you gaze at it. The ring, so simple and elegant, with a little rock of diamond jutting out the center. Iwaizumi holds it up with hopeful eyes and his charming smile.

"(Name), will you give me the absolute greatest honor of my life to be your husband?"

You wipe your eyes and sniffle, full-on sobbing by now, and you've never felt so much warmth flowing through your body. All so perfect in every way, he is. Your future, your life, and your everything was going to be with him.

Just the both of you, until forever.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the ending of the longest fic i've wrote so far....and I hope you guys loved the ride!! thank you for supporting me and leaving encouraging comments, i love them and you! also, i tried looking up how proposals go in japan (trying to keep this as accurate as possible) but i've found nothing, except that there are christian chapel weddings that are common in japan, so this was based on assumptions. besides that, hope you enjoyed it!  
> P.S.: i know you've probably noticed that it's 12/13 chapters....and yes, this is the ending! the next chapter is an epilogue so you guys can get your last fill. :-)  
> P.P.S: i know you guys also noticed that little pulp fiction scene inspo!!! haha my fave scene from that movie, i just had to have iwaizumi act it out for me!!!


	13. Epilogue I: Honey, I'm Home

It was highly unlikely for Iwaizumi to take naps during the day, and though he loved sleeping in general, he never found them necessary. In the daytime, everything was so stressful and there was shit to be done, to put it frankly, so he put those in priority to his own well-being. Though today, he could say, was an exception. No scheduled meetings with Oikawa, not a deadline to be met. You were in the next room over, doing paperwork despite him telling you not to bother yourself with it.

So Iwaizumi slept in the spare room a few doors down from his office, on the comfy cot that was there specifically for these reasons. The guys thought he had no idea it existed, and sometimes would doze off when Iwaizumi had left for "business", meaning you, but he let it slide.

He didn't hear the tiny creak the door made when you entered, and light soft snores left his hanging mouth, the only sound in the room aside from the ticking clock. Arms splayed out beside him, you crawl into his side, hugging his chest and draping a leg over his own, your head close enough to hear a slow, steady heartbeat.

Your fingers begin to travel, exploring the exposed skin and dipping into the curves of his collarbones, down the crevices of his neck. Trailing lower, you trace along his chest, drawing shapes and letters and merely feeling how warm he is. You were always thankful for that during the coldest nights; he's like a walking furnace.

Reaching past his sternum, your touch dips into the curves of his abdomen, and that earns some fidgets. Before going any further, he flips on his side, his nose nuzzling into your hair and pulling you towards his chest.

"Got bored, huh?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, "I just finished."

"All of it?"

"You're welcome."

You plant a quick kiss on his cheek and force yourself to get up from his embrace. The kyodais would be back soon and there would be even more work to do, and that type of job would be better handled by Iwaizumi, even though he seems incredibly lazy on this day in particular.

"I think you should take over today. I'll just watch."

Eyes wide, you glance back at him with his head propped up by his arms, a lazy smile grazing his lips.

Scoffing, you cross your arms, "Really? You never even let me touch your gun."

"Right, but you know how to use it, don't you? Just do your thing, babe. Make me proud."

"Shut up."

A few moments later and there's a knock on the door, Oikawa most likely standing on the other side. You let him open it as he makes a small hum of a greeting, announcing that the subject has arrived and prepped.

"Let's get it over with then. I'm not gonna drag it out like you do," you send a glare at your husband, who merely stares back with innocent eyes.

The walk down the hall was always one you dreaded, the walls a dark blue with a wooden border made it seem like home, but it was far from it. Since everyone in the mafia was practically rogue, it would make sense to decorate the hideout with the purpose of making it appear so. There were no pictures, just blank space until you reached the door at the end.

Kyoutani was already waiting inside, slumping against the couch on the side and playing with a switch knife, along with Yahaba.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi follow you to the desk, your husband keeping a closer eye than usual as you load the pistol, a single bullet should be sufficient.

You peer up at the hostage, a tight rope acting as a gag, and although they don't seem frightened, their leg won't stop fidgeting.

"So," you begin, "you've bought from us before. Why would you feel the need to embezzle over thirty thousand yen?"  
Kyoutani is standing behind the man, his shaved head being shoved in the process of removing the rope from his mouth, and he coughs to clear his throat. He's an older man, around his mid-fifties, and his face is clearly pained as he does so. You tap the gun on the wooden surface impatiently, waiting for an answer.

"My family is starving. I didn't think I'd get caught," he sighs. "I had no other choice."

"This is a mafia. We always find out. We have people waiting around every corner of this city."

"I did what I had to do. I don't regret it."

"Is it really worth putting yourself in this position, though?"

"For them, absolutely. I have a daughter and a wife. We need to eat."

"What a load of bull-" Iwaizumi intervenes, starting to walk towards him. You cut off his steps with the sharp tone of your voice.

"Hajime."

Your eyes never leave the man, scouting his features for any signs of fraud.

"You needed thirty thousand yen for food? Is that why one of our men saw you at the mall, buying some knock-off designer suits and jewelry?"

He visibly gulps, his breathing becoming more rapid.

"Th-that wasn't me."

"Right. Who do you belong to?"

"I'm not tied to any organization."

Again, you analyze his face, paying close attention to his downcast eyes and quivering lip.

"I think I'm being framed. I don't have any suits or jewelry, you can search my house!"

"Who would do such a thing to you?"

"Who cares?" Iwaizumi groans, suddenly snatching the pistol from your loose hand, and pressing it against the man's forehead.

"Hajime! What the hell is the issue? Let me handle it."

"You're soft. This man is bullshitting you, why don't you see it?"

You're not sure what to reply to that, and reluctantly you let your husband put the bullet to the man's brain, not sparing a glance towards his limp body and instead focusing on Iwaizumi. He begins to walk out of the room, beckoning with his hand for you to follow while the kyodai clean up the mess. Oikawa sends you a sympathetic look, "Don't take what he says too personal."

Rolling your eyes, you follow him to one of the vacant offices down the hall, scoffing when Iwaizumi lifts your chin up to look him in the eyes.

"I'm only trying to help you. I don't know if you've realized this, but ever since you were taken from me, I've been thinking of ways to make you stronger and less naïve so it won't happen again. I'm not always going to be there to protect you."

"So you're saying me getting kidnapped was my fault?"

"Fuck no. I'm saying you need to be more aware, especially since other mobs know we're together. They'll use you and torture you just for revenge towards me."

"I doubt you'll let that happen, though."

"Of course not, you're my wife. I promised to protect you, but what if something happens to me? What then?"

Sighing, you slump in the little desk chair. "You're right."

"I don't expect you to become a savage killer or anything, but you need to know how to survive now that you're with me."

You manage a small smile, aware of how over-protective he's been since the incident. Despite it being over a year ago, he still finds a way to bring it up at least once a week as a reminder. Iwaizumi hadn't slept for a few months after it occurred, and made you sleep with him every single night. He had nightmares and you often had to wake him up to prevent them from worsening, and each time his eyes would hold tears. It wasn't a pleasant sight to see; you didn't take any joy from seeing him so afraid and upset and it was in those moments you realized just how much love he has to offer you.

"So," he gently sways your head with his hand, "I drag out interrogations? You were having a flat-out conversation with that guy."

"I was pressing him for information that I assumed we would need, but whatever," you shrug, "you already killed him."

"Hmm," he hums, leaning down to match your slouching position and kisses your face. "Not gonna lie, though. It was pretty sexy seeing you all tough and in control."

You laugh, letting his mouth press against your neck and your hands ruffle his hair.

"Let's go finish that nap, my love."


	14. Epilogue II: A Future To Call Our Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reflection of the past, via Iwaizumi's memory.

I didn’t want to get ahead of myself and assume that everything would be fine, but it’s been blissful, which is way more than I could’ve asked for. This lifestyle that I have isn’t the type that everyone gets accustomed to easily. Luckily, I’ve been blessed with a stubborn wife who doesn’t give up that quickly. 

We took it slow these past couple of years. She’s been helping me with small missions here and there, and always wanted to be present during interrogations for some odd reason that I don’t bother asking. She’s fully aware that it’s dangerous, but that became apparent to me when we first started dating. All that mattered 6 years ago was having fun, sex included. We weren’t really thinking about where we’d be down the road. All I knew, really, was that I wanted to be with her more than anything. I admit I was rather strong-willed and selfish to bring her into my world of violence and crime; she didn’t deserve any of the hardships that came with it. Yet she still stayed with me, and I still don’t understand why or how, but I’ve never been happier than getting to wake up next to her every morning. I’ve learned over the years not to question the good things that happen, even if they seem too good to be true. 

Rolling over, I see that she’s still snoring softly. She’s beginning to show, and I can’t stop the small smile I have and rubbing my palm over the exposed skin of her belly. She usually hates sleeping in anything other than my large shirts, and I don’t mind. When I get them back, they smell like her and I don’t wash it for a few days until the scent wears off. Weird, I know. Sue me for being sentimental. 

We don’t have anything planned today. Nothing that I know of, at least. It’s raining steadily, but not heavy. I saved up some money the last couple of months and brought her to a small, secluded beach up the Japan coast, rented out a little cabin just to show my appreciation for her and to give ourselves a break. I left Oikawa to the mafia, and let him be in charge for a couple weeks. I don’t have a doubt in my mind that he would fuck things up. After all, his life depends on it. 

I stay in bed with her, watching the small bump rise and fall as she breathes, and it still hasn’t fully hit me. I’m going to be a father. 

I’m relatively scared, though that’s an understatement. I’m absolutely fucking terrified. She’s ecstatic, as she should be, but me? I don’t know the first thing about being a parent. Some of the guys have told me that the “parental instincts” will kick in when they’re born, but I have no idea. A few of them are fathers as well, including Oikawa. His daughter should be turning 1 in a few months. 

I’m surprised that after all that time of bitching at me for having a girlfriend and being in love, he goes ahead and gets his own and has a kid before me. What a fucking hypocrite, but I can’t blame him. When you find the right one, it’s hard to just let them go. I remember thinking during the beginning of our relationship that if she were to find out, I’d have to break up with her for her own safety. Now look where we are. 

To be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way. If that makes me selfish, or inconsiderate, so be it. I’m sure if she found any problem with it at all, she would have left me. The thought of that still makes me profoundly upset, and sometimes I still get night terrors of her being kidnapped again. I’ll be damned if any of that shit happened again. I made a promise to myself that if she were to get hurt, or killed, for that matter, I would leave the mafia and lead a normal life. It’d be difficult, yes, but well worth it. Though I’d never remarry and I’d most likely be depressed for the rest of my years if she died, I don’t see the point in living. Now that I think about it, she’s the only reason I’m still alive in the first place. Well, her  _ and _ the baby. I guess Oikawa, too. 

She rolls over and opens her eyes, yawning. I still adore how she looks right when she wakes up and I consider it a blessing to be the first thing she sees. 

“Sleep well, my love?”

“No,” she groans, looking down at her belly. “This is getting fucking uncomfortable.” 

Nearly 4 months along, the little one is protruding more outwards. She’s a stomach sleeper, and hates sleeping on her back and rarely on her sides. I might have to look into getting one of those donut pillows for pregnant women. 

“You can take as many naps as you want to,” I smile. “But I think we should have some breakfast.” 

Her morning sickness has faded away and it’s been difficult getting her to eat, but I try to convince her for the sake of the baby, if not for her. 

“Let’s stay in bed a little longer. I miss you.”

“I’ve been in bed with you since we flew in last night.”

She frowns, and makes a seductive little smirk that sends a tiny twinge towards my stomach.

“You know damn well that’s not what I mean.”

I laugh. Ever since the third week of her pregnancy, she’s been more hornier and moodier than ever. I can’t really complain, though. 

“Wait a minute, though,” she sighs as she gets up, “I have to pee.” 

“Brush your teeth, while you’re at it,” I mumble. 

“Did I ask?!”

Another laugh. 

After a few passion filled hours, we both get dressed and make our way up the road to a little family restaurant. I twirl her around, her yellow tank top riding up her belly with each step. For the first time in a while, I can tell that she’s genuinely happy. Not that she isn’t all the time, but some days are worse than others. Her skin is glowing and there’s a smile on her lips and she’s humming quietly. It’s probably safe to say this was a good idea. I read online that eliminating stress for the mother is important for the health of the baby, so I’ve been trying not to include her in anything work related, especially now that she’s pregnant. She isn’t allowed to be in interrogations anymore, and I try to keep her at our separate house in the Gunma prefecture, a little ways north of Tokyo. I spend majority of my time at the base, and she stays there working a part-time job at a library. A stress-free environment is what she needs, and at least I know for a fact that she’s safe. I sent Hanamaki and Matsukawa to stay in the apartment complex with her. Not in the same room, but across the hall. I visit at least a few times a month, and even though I don’t enjoy it, I’m happy knowing that she’s protected. 

After breakfast, we return back to our cabin and take a walk on the beach. She cradles her belly and watches the tide creep up to her toes. I’m content with just admiring how the mid-morning sun settles on her face, illuminating her eyes. 

“Hajime?” 

I snap out of my thoughts, “Hm?”

“Do you think that we’ll have a normal life one day?"

The question takes me by surprise. Of course, I’ve thought about having a normal life with my own family, somewhere in the suburbs of Osaka. Someplace far from Tokyo. I knew that’s what she wanted, deep down, but I pushed the idea out of my head because even I wasn’t so sure about it. 

“I think that can be arranged.”

She halts, guiding my hands over her bump and scans my face with a hopeful smile. 

I never imagined myself having this kind of life. The one where I have a happy family, a wonderful wife. A home. I’ve always seen my future as grim, with me dying before I reach my thirties and being buried without any remembrance to my name. I’d die alone. 

Now I can see it all; growing old with her, watching our grandchildren grow up. Live my life fully. 

From here on, all that matters is us. But before that, I gotta call Oikawa to let him know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!!! i know the last chapter was technically the ending but i felt like i left you all hanging, like it wasn't finished. i hope this filled you all in on what happened in regards to your "'''future""" together. also, i left out the gender of the baby bc i want you to decide :-). i hope you also liked that i wrote this in his view! i honestly feel like my writing has got a lot better, and surprisingly this took me only an hour to write. not much dialogue, but i felt like i said and explained a lot. anyway, i might write some little drabbles about mafia!Iwaizumi in my other work, Like Honey. check it out if you want. i also write other iwaizumi stuff over there, not just relating to this. i promise to be more active lol :p


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